In Another Lifetime
by Roots-of-the-Heart
Summary: In another lifetime, under other circumstances he might've even been happy. A.U.


 _ **This story is A.U. I don't own Devil May Cry or its characters. They belong to Capcom. I also don't own Pokémon and The Legend Of Zelda.**_

 _ **Hope you enjoy.**_

 _ **-Symphony Of Death.**_

Vomit really was disgusting.

Not only it's disturbing to think that the contents of your stomach, from where they were being digested by various acids, are making their way back through the same orifice they came in just to be expelled, but the taste of the thing just… ugh.

This was merely what was going inside Dante's brain as he emptied his belly all over a nearby patch of grass, on his hands and knees from where he was, inside an unknown alley behind an almost nameless club.

Another night, another couple of bottles of the lowest quality booze, and another dinner wasted. It was a routine by now.

He grunted as another wave hit him, white hair coming down once more to cover his pink-ish eyes, almost getting covered by the mixture of liquids and solids coming out of his mouth.

Maybe he should buy better alcohol. At least he'd get more enjoyment from it before ultimately throwing up. Of course, his current chosen brand was still alcohol so, as long as it helped him ignore reality for a bit while at the same time destroying his liver in the process, he was happy.

He grimaced when the last wave of nausea finally stopped, giving him the possibility to turn around and sit on the ground, taking his time to brush his white bangs from his face, bile still hanging from the corner of his mouth. He would wipe it away, as soon as he'd care enough to do so. Trying to get up was something that, truthfully, he didn't want to do right now. He knew all too well from his past experiences that if he'd dare to try his head would start spiraling at the speed of light and his stomach would spontaneously create new food ready to be spilled again.

Something wet landed on his head, and he turned his head just in time to see someone walk out of the same alley he was in, black jacked illuminated by the street lights in front before the person disappeared behind a corner. Hey, he remembered that guy. He had tried to mug him a couple of times in this very same back street, both times without much success.

Being broke had it's advantages, apparently, even if you have to be completely broke to see them. Of course, it had disadvantages as well. Like, for one thing, the lack of money. Ah, right. That's why he didn't buy more high quality booze.

And that's probably why the ex-mugger decided to spit on top of his head, Dante supposed as he wiped his hand clean on his jeans, having previously dirtied it while touching his saliva-drenched locks.

His pink, almost red, eyes drifted over the back door of the club from which he had emerged minutes prior, when his stomach was doing backflips. It was a small building, almost hidden by the bigger buildings that emerged around it. It wasn't really it top condition, but then again nothing around here was. This whole area had seen better days. To strangers it might even appear devoid of life.

Dante lived here. Around here somewhere, at least. It was the only place where he could stay.

It was an odd world, the one he was born in. He didn't quite know if it had always been this way, or if something at a given time went really wrong.

It seemed like emotion in this world died. Everyone that reached 14 years of age became officially an adult, and started working immediately after. You'd get a job, and you'd do that job until either it ended, or you did. You'd work for a lifetime.

Everything outside of work was so incredibly dull that made working seem the most exciting of things. Music was bland, and boring. One piece of clothing was so similar to the others that they might've as well been one and the same. And, for some reason, after a while people start to forget how to be people in the first place. It was slavery in its finest form.

Dante was 18. Once he became 14, they gave him a job as well. It was something inside an office, incredibly bland and boring. White as far as the eye can see, and filled to the brim with black desks and very uncomfortable chairs. Everyone would sit with their backs straight, all wearing suits and ties, and would type away at their keyboards. Dante's job was simple. He had to write good things about what they wanted. He would sit there until a photo representing something would get printed from a little hole in the wall next to his desk, and a file document would open on his computer screen. All he had to do was start typing away whatever stupid lie exalted the (fake) beauty of the thing. If whatever he was writing was deemed good enough, then the file would be automatically send God knows where. All he had left to do then was throw the picture away inside another hole, and wait for the next image. He would get paid, of course. He was given a house as well, and his fridge was always mysteriously full. But, despite the good life…

He was dying inside.

Of course, there were also people that were _still_ people. The ones that still had some idea about what having a soul meant. And so, they did everything they could to try and make the others realize that there was something more to this life than, well, just _this_.

Dante had no idea about the existence of these people. He was like the rest. Until one day, when his " _job_ " sent him on a trip to get something from another far away district. Before reaching his destination, however, he had ended up in a storm, and had found shelter inside an old building that was once, a long time ago, a library of some sorts, he found out later. Inside was a computer far too old to be defined as such, with a free access to something called "internet". Dante had never even heard of something like that, but having time to lose before the rain let up he had checked it out.

And there he discovered a whole new world.

That "internet" was astonishing. Filled to the brim with pictures and realistic drawings. With funny videos and amazing movies. Interactive adventures that he learned were called "games", and drawings moving as if alive! He was 16 when he made that discovery. He wasted two whole weeks in front of that computer, eating whatever he could scavenge and then coming back for more internet.

It was around that time that he realized what he wanted. He wanted to be one of those people. And he did just that. He abandoned everything, job, house, everything, and he moved in this run-down districts between the two big ones.

Capulet City district, where he used to live and work, stood tall to the right side, casting everything in long shadows with its tall buildings. To the other side Fortuna district was located, with its pristine white buildings and clean streets.

Amusingly, no one really seemed to give a flying duck about his unexpected departure. Probably ended up replacing them the very next day.

So he ended here, in this nameless district, living in an old building next to a club called Devil May Cry, with said name written on a neon sign, barely working, over the entrance. And here he started making his music, doing occasional concerts.

He never really got much money, just enough to keep his fridge relatively full. And he always had enough for booze. Of course, it was to be expected. Almost no one lived around here, except for muggers, prostitutes, and the ones like himself. And the few that were didn't really attend to his concerts, his music either too sad, too angry or filled with nerdy jokes and references that no one would probably get unless they spent way too much time on the internet.

Speaking of which, he had his own internet, now. He had a PC off the grid that allowed him to post his music online, and that brought a little income as well. Now, if he only could remember in which of this buildings his apartment was located, he could finally go and upload the latest concert.

Dante sighed, raising his head to look at the polluted sky. It was a mad world, with mad people inside it. He really didn't feel like he belonged here. There was this… feeling, this sensation in the back of his mind that in another lifetime, under other circumstances he might've even been happy.

No use crying over spilled booze he mused, as made to get up on his feet and call it a (uneventful) day. Sadly, his body had no intention of collaborating. As soon as he straightened his back, another strong wave of nausea started, and he was forced to throw himself back on hands and knees as he bathed the bushes once more. The poor plants must hate him, by now.

«Hey… you okay?»

That was unexpected. No one really cared much about others, nowdays. The ones in this nameless district had their own problems, so they knew that talking with others would bring even more. The others, the ones living in the big, famous districts, were just too dead inside to even notice that there were other people around them. So, yeah, hearing such a question was a first.

Dante turned slowly his head when the fluids from his stomach had stopped flowing out and he was feeling like he had thrown up his own soul. He stared at his side, where a couple was blocking the light coming from the street. A boy and a girl, judging by the vague shapes that he could barely make out, were standing next to his hunched body, holding their hands.

That was new as well. One of the main reasons for the downfall of emotion, Dante always thought, was the way "love" ended up working in this twisted world. Actually, it didn't work at all. People would no longer fall in love. Procreation was simply done in lab, taking the necessary elements from people when they'd start working for the first time. After a child was made in lab, it would grow up into a structure with countless other children, where they would get an education and everything they'd need to become perfect little puppets. Once they reached 14 they'd get thrown out and start working. Dante, like any other, had been born in one of these structures. He had no idea who his parents were. Hell, he didn't even know it the two had ever met each other. The only thing he knew was that he was born an albino, white hair and reddish eyes and all that, so maybe one of them was an albino as well.

Now that he thought about it, they had taken samples of sperm from him too, when he started working. God, he might be a father already! That almost made him want to puke again.

So, yeah. That aside, it was nice to see some form of affection between two people. He stared at them, taking in whatever features he could in the dark alley. The girl was shorter than the boy, and she wore a long white dress that Dante easily recognized. It was the type of clothing that the Fortuna district forced everyone in that area to wear. She had also black boots, but she wasn't looking like the type to live in Fortuna, actually. She had black gloves on her hands, and on her head a black baseball cap was placed, covering most of her hair except for a long ponytail coming from the back. Sa also wore makeup and lipstick, which weren't very common.

He shifted his attention towards the boy that had asked him the question in the first place. He was an albino like himself, which was odd, and he was regarding him with pink-ish eyes almost covered by white bangs much like his own. He was taller than the girl, but both were shorter than Dante. Unlike the girl, that was trying to appear at least somehow from Fortuna, the boy was dressed in a peculiar way. He wore blue jeans with brown boots, and an unzipped hoodie, along with a pair of headphones placed on his head. Dante had to smile, because the decorations on the hoodie represented an Umbreon. The shirt he wore under was green and had the Triforce on it in gold. Oh, and he also had cat ears on his headphones. Apparently Dante wasn't the only one that didn't feel welcomed in this world.

«I'm… fine, thanks.» He replied uncertainly, not used to normal human interactions. The kid smiled, letting go of his girl's hand and reaching inside his pocket to pull out a napkin, handing it to him. Dante noticed that his right arm was in a cast, and couldn't help but wonder why.

«Here.»

«…Thanks.» He took it with slight hesitation, before using it to wipe his mouth. He looked once more at the other two, and the girl this time asked if he was really okay. She said he was looking a little pale. He nodded once more, slowly, and they smiled once more.

«I'm glad.» The boy continued, checking the clock on his left wrist before going back to holding the girl's hand. «It's getting late, Kyrie. C'mon, let's go.» He said, dragging her away towards the Fortuna district, where they really lived, apparently. «Take care of yourself!» he called back.

«Hey!» Dante didn't know why he had called out to him. Maybe because the kid was the first human interaction he had had in… forever, really. Maybe because the two of them weren't completely devoid of any kind of emotion, and yet seemed to find a way to be happy nonetheless. Maybe because he was an albino as well, and his mind, craving for affection, had associated him with family. Whatever the reason, when the boy halted in his tracks and turned to him with curiosity shining in his eyes, he had no other choice but to speak, try to say something smart to get their attention, to make them stay. «Uh.. What's your name?» Really smart. Dante wanted to hit himself.

The boy smiled nonetheless. «Nero.» He then turned around to stare at something on the wall of the club, and Dante noticed it was a poster advertising his concert. «I saw your show.» He commented, turning back to him with a grin. «You're Dante, right? Not a bad name…» And with that he turned around, with his girl in tow, heading back to wherever they were heading in the first place.

And Dante smiled. He smiled, because of the way Nero said that. He recognized the feeling in the boy's words, that feeling that brought him to think that he didn't belong in this world. And probably Nero felt the same, deep down.

And, who knows. The two of them seemed quite alike. In another lifetime, under other circumstances they might've met in a different place, during a different course of events. Maybe they might've started with the wrong foot, and maybe, just maybe, they might've even become good friends. And Dante smiled because of this, because that may even be a life that he'll never live. But maybe, someone else would have the chance of living it for him, seeing what he would've had seen and doing what he would've had done. And he was fine with that.

«Neither is yours…» he replied in the end, just as the two lovers disappeared behind the corner into the bright street.


End file.
